The duke rose when I entered the room. “Your cousin has been telling me about the gossip concerning Mrs. Gattenger.”

I nodded, knowing Phyllida must have found the rumors disheartening. Her silence told me she was upset. She’d not said a word to Emma or me about what she’d heard concerning Clara during her visits. “Did you learn anything useful for the investigation?”

Phyllida and Blackford exchanged glances, and the duke nodded.

“The consensus is Kenny killed Clara. Today I heard of two different disagreements between them in public. Oh, Georgia, I don’t believe it. They always seemed so happy.” Phyllida looked ready to cry.

“No one can know the inside of a marriage, except for the husband and wife. And there could have been any number of tiffs that meant nothing.” I gave her a quick hug. “Tell us about them.”

Phyllida brushed an invisible wrinkle out of my dress. “One was at a musical evening. Kenny said something innocuous that Clara didn’t like. She walked off and didn’t speak to him the rest of the evening. The other was at the theater. Some family comedy, but at the end, Clara was seen to have tears pouring down her face. Kenny tried to comfort her, but she pushed him away.”

How odd. “What was the play?”

“The ladies couldn’t remember. But these episodes are going to count against Kenny, aren’t they?”

Blackford took Phyllida’s hand. “If I were the prosecutor, I’d use them to paint a portrait of a troubled marriage. But I think our best bet is to keep an eye on Sir Henry. If Georgia will question him, I think we’ll find he’s the man who hired Snelling and he plans to turn around and sell the plans to the Germans.”

Both Phyllida and Blackford stared at me as if waiting for me to do my job.

Annoyed with their attitudes, I turned to leave. “Let’s not keep the prime minister waiting.”

“I refuse to believe Kenny had a hand in Clara’s death. It’s impossible. Remember that, Your Grace, while you carry out your investigation.”

Once we were in the carriage I asked, “What do you plan to discover tonight?”

The duke smiled, but his eyes stayed grim. “I have no idea. We’ll keep an eye on the baron and listen to all the maneuvering around the prime minister. We’ll see if we can uncover any clues.”

When we arrived at the Royal Albert Hall, we went straight to our box and waited for the arrival of the prime minister. The duke went out to meet him, leaving Phyllida and me on our own. I saw the baron and Lady Bennett arrive in their box with another man, wearing a uniform identical to the baron’s, and the Dowager Duchess of Bad Ramshed and her daughter Lady Magda. None of them looked our way.

“The Germans have arrived,” Phyllida hissed.

“Have you learned any more about them from your afternoon visits?”

“The woman is a relative of the kaiser’s wife. Everyone says she’s a terrible dragon, so it’s not just my opinion from meeting her at Lady Bennett’s. I was given all the particulars when I paid my calls this afternoon. Several people called on her and were treated to a litany of all the things wrong with Britain. Apparently she’s leaving tomorrow, having visited with her doctors.”

Alarm bells rang in my head. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Rheumatism.”

Nothing unusual in a simple case of rheumatism, but could she be the mode for moving the blueprints to Germany? She had such a reputation and had such a powerful family that no one would want to search her carefully for the ship plans.

“What I don’t understand is how Lark Bennett could put up with someone as stuffy as her. Her mother never would.” Phyllida stared across the space to the box a distance away where Lady Bennett sat with the Germans.

Perhaps Lady Bennett would pass the ship blueprints to the dowager duchess and the baron would never have to touch them. I didn’t like the possibilities that kept springing to mind.

I heard noise behind us and turned around as Sir Henry Stanford entered our box. “Sir Henry,” I said with a smile as I rose. “How wonderful to see you again.” Wonderful for him, maybe. His suave smile made me nervous.

“I called today, hoping to find you at home, but you were out.” He brushed his lips along the back of my glove in the European manner.

“Yes. We called on Lady Peters. It was kind of her to invite us.” I sat and waved him into a chair. “Please sit, Sir Henry. We have a few minutes to talk before the performance.”

He sat and leaned toward me in a familiar manner. “I wondered if you ladies would like to accompany me to an art exhibit tomorrow evening. I realize it’s short notice, but I’m leaving town the next day.”

“How extraordinary. So are we. We’ve been invited to Lord Harwin’s for a few days.” I tried looking delighted.

He smiled. I hoped he was buying my act. “Extraordinary. That’s where I’m headed.”

“We won’t have time to go out tomorrow evening, but perhaps we can ride down to Gloucestershire in the train together.”

“Of course.” He glanced at Phyllida. “If I could have a private word with your cousin?”

“Of course.” Phyllida turned toward the stage and Sir Henry beckoned me to the rear of our box.

“I know what you did last night, and it won’t do you any good.” He kept his voice to a murmur.

Blast. The maid must have spotted me before I reached the bottom of the stairs. Trying to brazen it out, I said, “What do you think I did?”

“Rummaged through my study. I don’t keep anything of value there. Too easy a place for someone to search. And I asked around in the city. No one is handling the business affairs of Mrs. Edgar Monthalf. There is no money, is there?”

“Of course there is. How else would I be able to afford these dresses and jewels?”

“When your bills catch up with you, you’ll be hounded out of London.” His breath brushed my cheek as he continued to murmur. It made my skin crawl.

I stared at him, uncertain how to answer. The truth was the last thing I could tell him.

“If you want me to keep your secret, here’s what you’re going to do.” He gripped my upper arm and I gasped. “You’re going to visit Gattenger tomorrow and find out if his ship will sink or float. And you will tell me tomorrow afternoon when I call on you. Five o’clock.”

“That’s too soon.”

He gave me a cruel smile. The smile of a killer. His grip on my arm tightened. “You’ll do it, or I’ll expose you as a thief and a fraud.”

He let go of my arm and said to Phyllida, “Lady Monthalf, it was lovely to see you again. I hope you enjoy the concert.”

I wanted to rub my sore arm, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt me any more than he’d frightened me. “Sir Henry, what do you—” I was ready to tell him off.

Instead, I was forced to stop in midsentence as the duke entered, joined by a pleasant-looking woman and a man with a ferocious beard. Phyllida immediately rose and curtsied. I followed her example.

Sir Henry, his mouth dropping open for a moment at the sight of the prime minister standing in front of him, pressed his lips together and bowed.

The duke made the introductions, saving Sir Henry’s for last as he said, “And before he leaves, this is Sir Henry Stanford.”

I was amazed at how gracefully Sir Henry bowed to the prime minister and his wife and maneuvered around me without coming within reach of the duke, all in a small, crowded area. Gracefully enough to be the burglar?

No. We knew Mick Snelling was the burglar from Ken Gattenger’s drawing. We just didn’t know who’d hired him, or how they planned to exchange the blueprints for cash, or if the person who’d hired Snelling was only a middleman, putting the drawings up for bid.

The possibilities bothered me for the entire first half of the performance. That, and hearing the duke and the prime minister call each other Ranleigh and Cecil. I felt completely out of place.